I pick you up,
Ever so gently.
And lift you onto a chair in front of me.

Taller than me now you are,
And on my toes I have to reach,
To greet your face.

Most quietly,
With enchanted eyes,
And steady passion,
I kiss your cheek.

Not once but twice,
So that you might know,
The boy I’ve been,
And the man I’ll always be.

The present standing in front of you,
The past surrounding most of me.

No one to witness,
Or tell the tale.

Or even explain,
Why I love your cheeks.